The fixed facades, the masks in place
Yet troubled eyes shine through,
The restlessness, the hopelessness,
The shadowed eyes construe.
The masks perform their empty tasks,
For life, it just goes on,
A seeming carousel they ride,
The same from dusk to dawn.
Enduring life, hour by hour,
Repeating one more day,
What was done the day before
Done once again today.
No purpose in the plodding,
They live, so they exist,
No joy performing all the chores
That daily make their list.
They own so much they must maintain
And still the need for more,
To prove they are successful
With jobs that are a bore.
The masks in place, few people see
The emptiness inside,
Few people know they yearn for more
Or hear the moans they sighed.
Pretending happiness and joy
They hide the inner pain,
Frustrating tears we'll never see,
Convinced their life's in vain.
But there is hope and they must hear
There's purpose for each one,
Designed by God with gifts and tasks...
A race that must be run.
The fake fore'er forgotten,
The masks removed at last,
Perceiving purposes and plans...
Abundant life forecast.
This life a preparation,
A future of no pain or tears
But joy and peace instead.
For hope lies buried 'neath the soil
Of anxious, fearful hearts,
For we are certain our God reigns
And peace He thus imparts.
With every dawn there is fresh hope
That nurtures life anew,
A new beginning for the masks
If we tell them of You.
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